Shattered Glass
by The Penumbra
Summary: A coloured glass thrown at the wall will break into a thousand pieces,but even on repeating the whole thing over for a thousand times, the glass will never break in the same way, nor will the coloured fragments end up in the same place...author aka Konze
1. Default Chapter

**Disclaimer:** Saiyuki does not belong to me.

**Author:** To all… I have recently changed my nickname from _Konzen_ to _The Penumbra. _Thank you for reading.

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** Shattered Glass**

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_by_

_The Penumbra_

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**Introduction **

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If I throw a glass at the wall, or anything breakable for that matter, it will, without any doubt, break into a thousand pieces. And if I repeat the same action with another glass, this glass will break too and so on and so forth I suppose.

So what? It's just the same thing isn't it? Same action, same result. What you'll end up with are many fragments again and again.

Wrong.

Even if I where to repeat the whole thing over for a thousand times, the glass will _never_ break in the same way, nor will the same fragments ever disperse in the same direction.

Each fragment has its own destiny, its own particular position and place. Altering that, there's no knowing what could happen. That's what makes every small action so important. It's uniqueness. Each event in its uniqueness contributes to a whole course of events. There's no doubt about this in our minds. We're all guilty of the " If I hadn't done this or that, this would have happened instead of that," syndrome.

And just to make my point more clear….

If one were to take a piece of coloured glass… with four colours, such as violet, emerald, crimson and gold for instance… and thrown it against the wall, the glass would shatter, and each fragment would end up in a specific place, with a precise role to go with its defined position.

But...

If this was to be repeated and the different pieces end up in different places, what would happen? In this case, one can justly say that "_That_ is the question."

For one can never know. One can only wonder….

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Reference to _Hamlet _(William Shakespeare)


	2. If green takes the place of red

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Saiyuki… but the ideas I claim as my own.

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**If the green fragment were to take the place of the red fragment… **

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There's nothing particular about the boy, except for a couple red marks on his face, thin red lines which will surely scar his face for ever, only partly hidden by his short red hair. He is at the crossroads, he can go either right or left. Which will he choose? He doesn't know…. not that he particularly cares.

The boy takes off his glasses and cleans them carefully with the end of his thin shirt. Before he puts them on he hesitates, and looks at them with an odd expression in those blood-red eyes, normally so expressionless and cold. They seem to be only a pair of cheap glasses, with the lenses scratched and worn, but the boy holds them tightly with trembling hands. _Jien bought them_, he thinks. _Jien got them for me so that I could see well. And now Jien's gone._ The boy's face grows paler, and he suddenly sways slightly, as though he can no longer bear the memories of what he has seen so well, memories which are too heavy for his young shoulders to bear….

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_Down, down come the claws ready to pierce his heart, ready to take away the life which caused so much misery…A soft moan, and a body falls to the ground. Jien is dead, giving his life in the stead of the half-brother he loves. And the she-demon screams for she loves her son, and now sees blood seeping through the white shirt she sewed for her boy, staining her hands forever with the worst crime of all. She has killed her own flesh and blood, the sole reason for her miserable existence. _

_She clutches at his body, calling his name… _Jien… Jien… Jien_… But how can a lifeless corpse answer back? And so she will die, rocking back and forth, with the name of her dead son on her lips, never heeding the sharp blade coming down, down burying itself in her back, taking her life to pay for the one she had stolen._

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_Calm down, _he says to himself. _There's nothing you can do now. _The boy straightens as he puts his glasses back on, but his thin face is still pale. He wipes the beads of sweat off his forehead, and tries to think. But it is not so easy to forget.

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_He sees her coming at him, but he does not move. He is terrified, but he doesn't really care. There is nothing to make him wish to live, he cares for nothing and no one except for one… _Jien?! _His brother comes between him and his mother, and then… Her accursed voice calls his brother's name . _ Jien is dead. _The boy stares at his lifeless body, and the same words echo in his head._ Jien is dead. Jien is dead… JienisdeadJienisdeadJienisdeadJienisdeadJienisdeadJienisdeadJienisdeadJienisdeadJienisdead.

_The blood pounds in his ears. He can no longer reason, he can no longer think. The fury within him has been unleashed and he can think only of one thing…He wants _blood… her _blood_. _He has no claws but he sees a knife with its cruel blade glinting in the sunlight. The boy moves mechanically. He rises and takes the knife and looks towards his stepmother. He lunges towards the she-demon, and stabs her, once, twice, three times, as she clutches his brother's body, until he is sure that she is dead._

_His ragged breathing grows more even, and the knife slips from his grasp. His mind begins to clear, and he starts to grasp the enormity of what he has done. There is no time to grieve. Not yet. He knows what he must do, and yet he lingers, for a sudden thought crosses his mind. _

She is dead. But Jien will not come back. 

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_But that is the wrong way to think._ He nods his head slowly, as though replying to himself. _It is true, Jien will not come back. But she is dead._ All those years spent with her, being hurt being shamed and mistreated… all that had now been put to right. Justice has been done.

His lips curl upwards into a thin, cruel smile, and his eyes shine, as he savours this new thought.

_She is dead. And it was_ I_ who killed her._

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He decides to take the left path simply because he feels like it. He has no ties, no family. He has no past and cares not about the future. He will live, then die and be forgotten, because that is the way thing are. But before he moves, the boy looks back for one last time.

A cloud of dark, black smoke meets his cold gaze, as the house he lived in burns together with his past.

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Comments, as always, are much appreciated. Thank you for reading.


	3. Then red takes the place of green

**Disclaimer:** The ideas are mine, but Saiyuki does not belong to me.

Some of you said they were confused… the idea in itself is a simple one.. What if the Sanzou ikkou were not reincarnated in the way shown to us in 'Saiyuki'? What if Tempou Gensui was born as a half demon, in the same environment in which originally Kenren was born as Gojyo? How would events change? Hopefully, this makes things more clear…

Oh, and excuse the delay, but would not accept uploads for the past week.

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**While the red fragment were to take the place of the green fragment…**

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The boy pulls up the nets slowly for they are much heavier then usual. He smiles, thinking of the many fish he and his mother will be able to sell at the market, and of what they will buy. With a final effort he pulls them all onto his boat, and unrolls the net to feast his eyes on his catch.

The look on his face quickly turns into one of horror. A petrified shriek echoes round the wharf.

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_He turns around slowly. He knows it is the end, but he does not care. It is _this_ end which he has longed for, _this_ end which he has been desperately looking for. It is the death he deserves. _

_This time he does not tremble, nor does he cry or run to others for protection. _There is no one to run to this time_, he reminds himself. _They are all gone. Because of me.

_He clutches the knife he holds in his hand tightly. It seems but a foolish toy, when faced with the deadly claws they bear, but he has nothing else. Yet he will not merely allow them to kill him, although he knows death to be inevitable. He wants to die fighting, like his father._

_He lunges forward, his knife gleaming brightly in the moonlight._

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A large crowd is on the shore. The middle-aged woman in a black habit approaches, curious to know what has drawn the crowd there. She catches a few words…_dead… child…. youkai… claws…shame…_ The nun pushes herself through the crowd, reaching the front, where a young lad, pale and trembling, is surrounded by solicitous relatives, while he gestures weakly towards a small figure lying on the golden sand of the bay.

It is the woman's turn to pale, and she stumbles towards the still figure, once so full of life. She drops on her knees beside the dead child, and makes the sign of the cross. The crowd's attention is now shifted towards the nun, as she cries, rocking back and forth, murmuring the name of the child… _Cho Gonou… Cho Gonou…_

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_The youkai screams as the knife cuts through his flesh. The boy, moves back, drawing out the knife as he does so. He is small but he has nothing to lose. He lusts for blood, and does not care whether it is his or that of the youkai._

"I hate you!" His voice sounds high and childish, even to himself, but then.. he is only a child. He is answered by soft laughter as the demon approaches, holding his right arm, from which blood flows freely. The child is tense and rigid, ready for any attack, but he is too slow to avoid the sharp claws which tear at his arms, his chest, his face. So this is how my mother must have felt, he thinks, as he remembers the sight of her mutilated corpse lying on the cold ground.

He raises his eyes, eyes which have seen too much for any child to bear. They meet the murderous gaze of the youkai, lips parted showing white fangs, arm coming down for the final blow .

His foot loses its hold as he feels a tearing pain in his chest and watches the red blood gush out of his wounds… and he falls down into the darkness…

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They take the nun into the nearest house, with a man carrying the child's body. People shudder as they see the torn flesh, the pale lips, the soulless eyes, staring into emptiness. The nun caresses the thick black hair as she weeps over him. "He would have been beautiful had he lived," she says, and the women nod.

A common story, that of this child, one of the many left orphan by a youkai attack on their homes. But this one was different, he blamed himself for his parents' death, and wanted only to share their fate; he could not take to life at the orphanage. He had run away several times but had always been brought back. But this time…

The nun puts her hand on his face and closes his eyes. She bends down and kisses his forehead, murmuring a short prayer for his soul. She can do but one thing for this child. She will take him back to their village, where in death, he will once again be with those he loves.

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_Down, down, down he falls over the edge of the precipice, reaching the cold waters far below. The pain grows stronger, and he feels life ebbing away. He raises his eyes to the heavens one last time and smiles, for there he sees the stars shining brightly amidst the darkness of the night._

_The cold, deep waters engulf his lifeless body, while his soul soars up into the heavens._

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Thank you for all those who reviewed. I'm glad most of you seemed to like it. Positive comments are always very encouraging. As for my use of the present tense, I'm sorry, but I fully intend to keep on using it, as I think it is much more effective than the past tense in such a story.


	4. But if gold replaces violet

**Disclaimer:** You may have realised that _Saiyuki_ does not belong to me… but the original ideas are mine.

Hmm… either I've scared off everyone with my stories or reviewers are on strike… _sigh_… One can easily compare an author's thirst for reviews to the wish, or rather _need_ for water of a man in the desert. Hint taken? :p

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**But if the golden fragment were to take the place of the violet fragment…**

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The smell of fear in the air is powerful, intoxicating. He thrives on it, delighting in the chaos, the despair that surrounds him. He can understand nothing but his lust for blood, the need to fight. He lives to kill.

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_The monk looks at the child standing before him, his foster son. The boy rubs his head, and grins at the older man. Sanzo's eyes fall on the golden diadem on the child's forehead, and he shivers slightly. It cannot be taken off, whatever the strength applied, and at times, the monk wonders if it hides something… something _evil_ about…about…_

_He shakes his head and banishes these thoughts immediately. The child could not be capable of hiding any evil. He is a unique being, as innocent as a newborn child, heart as golden as his eyes, but as indomitable as the river which once bore him to the temple. These qualities made Komyou decide that the boy was the one he had to choose._

_"Koryou… you will be wondering why are I called you here tonight." The older man looks down at the novice. He smiles, and the boy nods enthusiastically as he looks at his master with undisguised curiosity. Komyou Sanzo draws the child closer. It is time for him to speak._

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He strides through the courtyard, ignoring the falling rain as his eyes linger slightly on the mutilated bodies littering the ground. There's blood everywhere… on the ground, on their faces, on the whitewashed walls of the temple. He kicks away one of the corpses on his path. He is bored; none of them could fight well enough to give him more that a few minutes enjoyment.

Suddenly, he turns towards the building he has just left. Dead bodies can make no sound; the soft noise he has just heard, barely discernable, is coming from a living creature. The predator goes in search of his prey.

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_"But… But Master, I'm not worthy, I can't…" The child's voice fades away; he is at a loss for words. The monk smiles. For once, the child is silent, and the only sound is that of the raindrops pelting on the windows. He opens his mouth to speak, but suddenly, the boy's eyes widen with fear._

_Sanzo__ turns as the window breaks with a deafening crash as youkai burst into the room. One rushes towards the petrified boy, claws ready strip him of his life. A white-clad figure dashes in front of the child. _

_A heart-wrenching scream echoes throughout the temple. _

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He laughs.

The scent of blood pervading every room increases his desperate thirst to spill more and more blood… to feel it, smell it, taste it… He can feel a living presence, terrified, helpless, so close… so close… He grins, barring his white fangs. The sound of a stifled sob draws him towards a wooden screen. He walks towards it softly. He waits slightly then tears it away with his claws. A terrified child lays behind it, pale as death, staring at the monster in front of it.

The demon licks his lips as his golden eyes fix on the child's face. The boy is shivering as he looks at the demon. "Please… please don't hurt me." The boy is on his knees, begging desperately for his life.

The golden-eyed demon simply stares at him. He can hear no voice but that which urges him to _kill kill kill kill._ He raises his arm. The boy looks up, and moans. It is useless to ask for mercy, but he does not want to die. Suddenly the child loses all control and tries to run away from a certain death. He dodges the monster and rushes out of the room. The boy does not see the demon's lips curl into a cruel smile as he allows him to escape.

The demon watches him run and stumble in the rain, and smirking, he follows his prey.

After all, a little resistance makes the game more fun.

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_Golden eyes stare at the lifeless figure before him. Blood stains the once spotless white robes. The child looks up at the murderers. His eyes are blank. He can feel no pain. No fear. Only anger. Only hatred. He can hear nothing but the thump-thump of his heart, he can smell nothing but the blood oozing out of his master's wounds. He only knows that Komyou died to save him._

He's dead.

_ Dead._

There's nothing but blood, so much blood.

_ Blood_

I hate them.

_ Hate._

_There'snothingbutbloodandkomyouisdeadDEADdeaddeaddeadsomuchbloodnothingbutBLOODbloodblood bloodihatehatehatehateHATEthemhate.There'snothingbutbloodandkomyouisdeadDEADdeaddeaddeadsomuch blood nothingbut BLOODbloodbloodbloodihatehatehatehateHATEthemhate..._

_An inhuman cry burst out of him as the golden diadem breaks._

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There's blood everywhere. The boy is dead. There is no one to mourn him, for all those who could have mourned for him are dead. _He _killed the boy. _He_ killed them all.

He licks the warm blood off his claws as he looks at the chaos he has created. He feels no pain, no sorrow, no anger, nor regret. He can understand nothing but his lust for blood, the need to fight. He lives to kill.

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Thanks to the few, but faithful reviewers! :-) Your comments are much appreciated. I'm sorry that there are some who still can't understand what I'm getting at… but I'm afraid that what could, or might have been, never is as clear as what has actually happened #-#

Last chapter will be up soon hopefully.


	5. Then violet replaces gold

**Disclaimer: **As yet, I have received no notice telling me I am the proud owner of Saiyuki, so…

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**Then the violet fragment would take the place of the golden fragment…**

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Slender fingers grasp the metal bars which keep him imprisoned inside the cave. His hands are so white that the blue veins show clearly through the almost translucent skin… a skin which bears no blemish; it is only the dirt and grime which mar the beauty of this being. He pulls back his golden hair which frames his finely chiselled face, a face people paint so often, yet see so little. His amethyst eyes, which look idly toward the world, lack life and lustre, for his is a mere existence. He shifts slightly, settling down with his back against the wall. There is no shade - the sun's rays penetrates even into the deepest crevices of this cave, his prison, his home.

_Konzen__… Konzen… Konzen…_ At times he hears a childish voice calling his name persistently. The voice is familiar but he cannot picture the face of the boy who calls him, nor does he remember his name. There only two things he remembers after all… His name, and that he was imprisoned because of some heinous crime committed, the nature of which he has forgotten.

He starts as a slight sound disturbs the deafening silence, but then looks curiously on. A small bird has settled a few paces away from the bars of the cave. It is his only link with the outside world as no other creature ever ventured so near; its singing often helped him while away several weary hours. Yet… yet… he frowns. The bird seems to be disoriented, fluttering this way and that. Suddenly it falls to the ground. It no longer moves. His violet eyes widen, and his heart beats wildly as he stretches out his hand, trying desperately to touch it, to caress its motionless body, willing it to rise and fly again.

It is useless. It is so close and yet so far, like the rest of the world beyond the bars which he yearns for daily. The bird is dead. Something seems to snap with this realisation. He seems half-crazed; this once cold and emotionless man starts raving madly, uttering blasphemies and screaming his hatred towards the world. He hates everything and everyone. He hates the sun, the wind, the rain, the snow. His hatred is all he has left. He has lost all reason, all sanity.

Exhausted, he falls onto the harsh ground and buries his face in his hands. He moans as he rocks back and forth, back and forth as he banishes all thoughts but one… _He was, he is, and will remain alone and forgotten in this God-forsaken place for eternity_.

Then after the storm comes the sudden calm, after madness a brief lull of sanity. He perceives the truth with a clear mind. Initially, he hoped beyond hope that someone would come to free him – it was this thought that kept him sane - but that someone never came. He knows now that there is no hope, that he is destined for perdition without the relief of a natural death…

He stops moving, and raises his eyes, the eyes of a madman, of one who has nothing, no past to cling to nor a future to hope for. His thin lips curve upwards into an eerie smile, and he laughs… a horrible sound, almost demoniac in its nature.

_ A stone with a jagged end._

_ Despair._

_ Madness._

_ Pain. _

_ And at last… _

_ Freedom._

He smiles contentedly as he watches blood trickle down his wrists as he feels life ebbing away, freeing his soul from the chains which bound it to endless despair.

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Chaos is unleashed. Gyumaho lives, and hell engulfs the earth as demons rule unchallenged. The heavens weep as eternal darkness falls on this world.

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Final chapter will be up soon. **Thank you to all reviewers**!!! Any comments are welcome :-)


	6. Better the known devil

**Disclaimer:** Saiyuki does not belong to me… and apparently neither does the title "Shattered Glass" for I have heard that there's going to be a film coming out with that name… (I call that the irony of destiny; although they can sue me, I can't sue them sigh…)

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**Better The Known Devil…**

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One may thus conclude that as they say, better the known devil…

Things could always have been better, but undoubtedly, things could also have been worse. Destiny plays cruel tricks, but what **_is_**, may very well be better than what **_could have been_**. Take it or leave it, but that's the way things are.

And thus, one may say, 'tis better that the green, the red, the gold and the violet remain where they were meant to be when the coloured glass was shattered the first time. And I can do nothing but agree, for dire indeed are the consequences for those who dare meddle in the workings of destiny…

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**Thank you **to all the reviewers who have been brave enough to pursue this story from beginning to end :oP, namely: Chelle86, Rage-of-Death, Hanae da Firefly, Attiqah Gensui, keistje, UltraM2000, Kenren Taishou, Adlea Evanstar and Sorchafyre.

I hope to upload a new fic soon, entitled – _Thwarting Destiny_- not your usual reincarnation fic by any means, but which is not written in the same style as this one. Hope that you will enjoy!


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